Chronicle of a Slayer
by Axel.Serani.Horatio
Summary: Following the events of the in-game story, the Dark Brotherhood has a powerful, infamous new Listener. Naturally, she has a fangirl, except, said fangirl did not exactly expect the most powerful woman in the entire Brotherhood to be like... this. OCxOC
1. Chapter 1

Chronicle of a Slayer

As of the **fifth of Sun's Dusk, 3E433, (Morndas) **I have become a Slayer in the Dark Brotherhood's hierarchy. To commemorate this occasion, I have begun a diary. This is different from the one when I was a young girl. That one was more of a list of the good-looking men in Skingrad and a basic summary of where they were on any given day. Maybe all that stalking is why I've ended up here... but that is not the point. The point?

After more than six months of my clumsy learning about the shadows, I have finally moved up in the Brotherhood! At this point, I shall now make a 'squee'ing noise in real life. Quietly, though, so the others don't hear!

...There. No one heard me. (I'm getting good at this!) Now, the actual _events_ of today.

Today, I completed my final assignment as a Murderer. It was... surprisingly simple. Just a nobleman in the Imperial City that had slept with the wrong woman, not even a threat to me. He had been fast asleep. I even managed to snag a nice ring off his corpse. I think it matches my eyes. That aside, does this mean my assignments will be... more difficult now? Is there a possibility I will.. _die?_ Heh, kind of silly for someone in my line of work to worry about death... but I am much, much too young to die. Everyone keeps calling me 'kid' and 'brat' because of it... I'm not _that_ young, though, am I? No. No way. No possible way. Those liars. I am no more than three years younger than anyone here. Jerkfaces. Oh, that's kind of immature... oh well.

Since this is a diary and all... I have to admit.

I am quite possibly Listener Duveney's biggest fan.

Not that I've met her in person, of course. Or actually seen her face. Or anything but the back of her robes. But... but! I have seen a painting. Do you realize how amazing this woman is? She killed nearly half of the Brotherhood single-handedly! ... That may not be such a great thing out of context. She was under orders from a traitor. It's not the act, it's the skill, that gets me! Within mere months, she made her way from lowly Murderer to Listener. It didn't even take half of a year.

The painting of her is.. astounding, really. From what I can see, she's a Bosmer, with this.. this ebony hair, straight and short, and it just frames her face like the hood she always wears to our Sanctuary. Her eyes, oh her eyes! In the painting, they are just.. this acid color, like snake's poison. She is.. a gorgeous woman, and I don't care if I gush! Gorgeous, talented, and so, so powerful. I think I'd die happy if I just saw the face of that painting once.

...That's about it for today. I can't wait for tomorrow-- my first day as a Slayer!

**Sun's Dusk 6, 3E433; Tirdas**

Oh.  
My.  
Sithis.

The Listener herself is coming to the Sanctuary for more than a few minutes! My heart is pounding so fast, you could hear it with your ears stuffed with lettuce, I swear! She has decided to sleep here for three days. Three whole days! And, she apparently is thinking of finding a body guard for herself. If I were picked I'd.. I'd...

...That thought notwithstanding, she's _just_ arrived, and I must, **must** greet her. I will write upon returning!

_A line has been slashed here to mark a passage in time, in the book._

I think that... I may die of embarassment.

That painter was some sort of blind man. Those two aren't even close to the same person! That silky smooth hair? Forget it. It's just _limp_. Like wet thread on her head. Acid green eyes? Darker. Kind of reminded me of those green olives you see in fancy places. Her figure was... well. She certainly isn't overweight. Her chest was nearly flat compared to how she'd been painted. She was barely more than a wooden plank! Even my figure is better! Also? She has a big nose. Yeah, I said it. Big. Nose. And particularly thick eyebrows.

I think, though... that he got two things right. Well, no. Not quite right. In the painting, they were much, much more downplayed. Two things that convinced me it was actually her, not some impersonator.

Her eyes, even if they're not the right color, or even a particularly pretty one, are... so passionate, I think. Passion enough in those eyes to climb from the bottom wrung to the top of the Brotherhood's mountain in no time, that's for sure. The other thing is her stance. She stands like a woman of power, immeasurable power, the kind of power held by true leaders; kings, captains... Listeners.

Well. She's nothing like the painting, but... she is who she is. Something that's bothered me, though, is that she's barely said a word. Any she has, has been a whisper to Arquen. Kind of unnerving, but, I've been surprised up to this point, why shouldn't I be by that? Anyway, I should get some sleep. All these surprises have worn me ragged, and I may just fall apart at the seams. Good night, diary.

**Sun's Dusk 7, 3E433; Middas**

I am quite certain this woman is insane.

When I woke up this morning, and headed for the kitchens, I saw our honorable Listener walking past with this.. smug grin. Curious, I went in, and that lunatic had replaced every ounce of meat in the place with mort flesh! Undead limbs strewn everywhere, hanging in the pantries, even on the chopping block! I hurried out of the room to point this out to Arquen, when I noticed the wine holder was... quite vacant. I was sure that this morning, there had been a fresh stock of various boozes, but... oh well. I'll write in a bit, I've got a bit of training to do.

Yeah, remember that training? I decided to stalk Duveney for a bit, you know, just to practice sneaking around. I found out where all the alcohol went. She hid it all in a sack of grain. Why? I haven't the slightest. She didn't notice me, though... I think I'm going to stalk someone else for a while, before my mental image of her shatters further.

It is around mid-day now, and I've just found that all of the books in the Sanctuary's lobby area are gone. Instead? Ectoplasm. As in, ghost goo. All over the shelves! What's more, there were strawberries floating in it.

I think I know whom to look at for this one. And why doesn't anyone else say anything? ... I shall just... sigh and return to my training, I suppose.

Dinner was spectacular, despite the vegetarian quality to it all. I'm stuffed! Except, while wandering the lobby, I smelled... something very strong. I investigated, and it turned out that down in the.. lower areas, the rooms of the long-dead Ocheeva and Vicente, were the source. Vicente's room, to be exact. I went in, and I found more garlic than one could ever imagine, everywhere! As if someone was opening a garlic store, and this was there warehouse! ... Once again, I knew the source of it all.

I'm going to bed. Now. Or else I might explode, and get my goo all over this poor book.


	2. Chapter 2

Chronicle of a Slayer****

Sun's Dusk 8, 3E433; Turdas

Today our illustrious leader, the Listener Duveney, announced (through Arquen) that she was going to go shopping and wanted accomplices. She grabbed Feichin by his arm and dragged him right out the door into Cheydinhal. Somehow, I wasn't jealous in the least.

I've been spending today catching up on some of my reading. It's actually been worth my time, I feel much more relaxed. I'm reading this very, very enticing play about this Argonian maid, who

Forget everything I said about relaxed. Now! Now, I am... worried. Our Listener has returned from her... shopping escapade, and the poor boy who went with her is covered in what looks like blood. I could have sworn while I was staring, someone whispered 'goat', someone female. ...I have this weird feeling she slipped skooma into my breakfast.

Thankfully, this time she decided to steal Bhradain away, thank Sithis, and not me. I will.. try to read again. It is relaxing. Yeah. Definitely. I am so relaxed right now. I am not annoyed and disturbed, at all. Peace. Ahhhh.

Scratch that again. Bhradain is back. Thankfully not covered in blood, he has something sticky-looking oozing out of his pockets. It smells vaguely of grapes. Jam? She took Orson this time, and I worry about what he will end up as, but I can't let that get to me. Reading. Reading is good. Yes, very good. Very, very good. Horny lizard women are very good.

She's back. Orson may be the worst of the three. He is barely, just barely clothed-- his underwear is on his head, you see, and the only clothing besides that is his hood wrapped around him like a baby's diaper. It looks heavy and smells terribly. I worry for my own safety, but it is getting late, and she seems to have gone back to misplacing various items around the sanctuary. I've decided not to eat tonight, as she was hanging around the kitchen while the cook was in there with her arms full of little white bottles. Skooma? At any rate, I am going to sleep.

**Sun's Dusk 9, 3E433; Freedas**

Today I have something a little different to tell of than the previous posts. Today, upon catching Duveney in her... pranks, would you call them? I decided not to just watch, but act like a bad-ass and lean up against the wall and shoot out some witty, snide comment. Instead I ended up watching her for a bit, wide-eyed, then suddenly asking, "Having fun?"

To my surprise, she actually answered. She whispered, though... very coldly, like a snake's hiss. "I quite am, thank you," she had breathed, before giving this very... dark chuckle and slipping away into the dark.

Creepiest moment of my life, I swear. But! Today is the very last day! She will be gone, and I can throw out that painting, and all my adoring fan letters, and she will be gone from my life! Oh, wait, there! Quick, she's leaving, I'll return in a moment to report.

... I have died, and gone to the deepest pergatory anyone could imagine. Remember how I said a few pages back that she would pick a bodyguard, a travelling companion, if she so pleased?

I bet you can guess who she picked. Yeah. I haven't the slightest clue why, but I'm to leave with her at dawn.

So, I'm packing my bag (and including you, diary), and being utterly miserable, as I write. I think my life could not get any, _any_ worse than this. ... You know, every time someone says that, it gets much, much worse...

With that, I'm going to bed. On to tomorrow... I'm so very excited. Very. Very. Excited. To my core, man. Blah. Night.

**Sun's Dusk 10, 3E433; Loredas**

I didn't write about it last night because I didn't think about it, but when I got up in the middle of the night for a midnight apple, I noticed Duveney. She's been sleeping on a roll on the floor near the kitchens, despite having been offered any and all beds in the Sanctuary. But, she wasn't sleeping at all. She was breathing really fast, and flipping back and forth on the mat, groaning constantly. A nightmare? Or just anger? I disappeared before I could find out.

And now, as dawn approaches, I am suddenly seeing my life flash before my very eyes... as a child, wandering about town with a little dog in tow, can't even remember the poor thing's name... older, breaking into candy stashes... older still, stalking the handsome men around...

I must leave. I will write again when there is time.

Now there is time, as dusk grows near. I have noticed.. some odd things about our Listener. Besides that she never speaks expect to whisper a short, precise order, she also has these... manic moments. We will be wandering the forest towards a nearby city, and she will just run off in some direction, looking around wildly, but when she calms down, she acts like nothing has happened. It only happened three times, but three is an odd number of times to do that. Heck, once is odd.

Also, when she eats, she is very vicious. Like a wild animal, ripping meat from bone, she somehow manages to keep herself relatively clean. A mystery.

She still has not even asked my name. Does she know it already? Does she not care? I feel unwanted. I could cry. I am going to sleep. Good night.

She won't stop the groaning. I can. Not. Sleep. This. Way. AHHHHHHHHHHH.


	3. Chapter 3

Sun's Dusk 11, 3E433; Sundas

**Sun's Dusk 11, 3E433; Sundas**

Oh, Dread Father, what have I gotten myself into now?

I will say as I have said before—this woman is _insane_. It didn't take us all that long to get to the Imperial City, and apparently she has a home here. I will get back to that, so hold on. It didn't start when we got to the city, no, it was near the Ayleid ruins of Vilverin. After she stared at the entrance to the prison sewers for about fifteen minutes (before chuckling and looking away), she noticed a few bandits making their camp on side the ruins. Well, I expected her to sneak in and kill them quietly. Or even run in there and slaughter them.

I did not expect her to spit on them from the higher areas of the ruins, then hide when they looked up. She repeated this for a while, just grinning to herself. And… swinging her legs up in the air. It was… almost… cute. In, you know, a weird way. She looked like a little kid.

Except then she spit on me. Dearest Sithis, I could have smacked that woman, but she is our Listener. She was chosen by the Night Mother herself, on special request. I cannot harm this woman. Can. Not. Sithis give me strength.

So then, we finally went into the city. She was normal a while, just wandering and selling a few things she had surely looted from victims on her journeying. The only break of my day. Then, we went out to the waterfront (coincidentally, where she had first killed as a Murderer), from there to the poor section of town, and further in to this little hovel that smelled strangely of death.

I'd like to say I went in and saw how weird her home was, but I can't. You see, when I tried to follow her in, she shut me out and locked the door. So now, I'm sleeping next to her house with nothing but a blanket I managed to grab. This was the best day of my life, what about you? Well. I'm exhausted. And if that Khajit does not stop staring at me, I swear I will send our Dread Father a soul tonight.

**Sun's Dusk 12, 3E433; Morndas**

Quite possibly the worst sleep I've had. Ever. I think she may have done.. something to make the ground even harder than usual. It was like sleeping on a piece of coal. Worse, it is near winter! I could have caught my death of cold, but does the _honorable_ Listener care? Nope.

Oh look. She finally woke up. I will write later. If I haven't died. Or caused another death. I'm still watching that Khajit very carefully…

I have returned, and I have, despite many, many close calls in just a few short hours, not been arrested. Today we went a-robbing in the middle of the day. That's right, breaking into peoples' homes just to steal things without even the cover of the night. She hissed at me to help, but any time I tried to grab something besides plain gold and, wait for it, paint brushes, she smacked me. On the hand, but still, she smacked me. Once we grabbed all of the gold and paintbrushes from one home, we moved on to the next. Through the plaza we robbed, one home after the other, never once getting caught. I can understand the whole gold thing, you know, not being able to sell stolen goods to normal merchants, but… paintbrushes? What good could paintbrushes _possibly_ be?

I digress. We've taken a lunch break. I can only imagine what we will do later. I shall write soon.

I can't write much right now, but we found a painter's house. She hasn't stopped grinning. Write more later.

That cat freak pervert tried to make a move on me! I knew he was trouble! Know what I did? I killed him. Yeah, weren't expecting that, were you. Shut up.

So, I am getting ready to sleep on the cold ground. Again. Thankfully, with no leopard-man watching over my shoulder. Maybe I will be able to sleep tonight, at the least better than last.

**Sun's Dusk 13, 3E433; Tirdas**

Last night, Listener Duveney woke me suddenly, at around midnight, maybe one in the morning. Grabbed me up and seethed something about needing to get away from this place, come on, and we were off. Now we are lost. In the middle of some woods, somewhere, we are lost. I have never been so happy in my life.

She has been talking more, I guess. If by talking more you mean whispering to herself and cradling her head in her hands, rocking back and forth, and then suddenly shooting a weird look at me. To which I respond by simply looking away. I have to go find some sticks and stuff. I will write in just a moment.

… I can not believe it.

I just… possibly saved her life.

I mean, she might have been able to take care of it herself, but she was restrained! I mean, she would have had a hard time taking care of it with her hands behind her back and stuff. How did she get caught in the first place? She took out half the Brotherhood, a few bandits is child's play.

Well, whatever the reason, I ended up saving her flat little butt. A few shots with a bow, right through the back and into the heart, and she was safe.

The best part?

She thanked me.

And no, I do not mean she hissed a sarcastic 'thanks' and moved on. She kind of… looked away, fiddled with her hood, and said, not muttered, not hissed, said quite clearly, "Thank you." I was… speechless. It was almost… sweet, in a very odd way.

Then she threw an apple at me and began mumbling to herself again. Not quite as cute, I assure you. It isn't even noon yet, but I am exhausted. I will not sleep yet, though. Will write later.

I found myself napping against a tree just away from the little makeshift camp. When I woke up, she was standing a bit away, just… staring at me. I pretended to still be asleep for a bit, watching her back, but I fell asleep again anyway. When I woke up again she was gone, so I went get some more fire-making sticks and ate some fruit. Not much more to report. Just awkward silences and eating nature.

It is… getting late, so, I will try to sleep some more. Write tomorrow.

**Sun's Dusk 14, 3E433; Middas**

I am never eating blackberries again. Ever. Goodnight.


End file.
